


I Love to Hate You

by magic_marvel



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Kidnapping, Slow Burn, Stark!Reader, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-08 04:17:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14686290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magic_marvel/pseuds/magic_marvel
Summary: You don’t know what it is, but seeing him breathe makes you want to punch him in the throat.





	1. Prologue

“Is it done yet?”

“No.”

“Maybe Mr. Stark should help.”

“No.”

“Are you sure? It looks like you need help.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then why haven’t you finished by now?”

“Because there’s a _pest_ in my lab and I can’t concentrate!”

You slammed a set of tools on the table, scraps and wires flew off your work space in a rush.

You removed a set of magnifying goggles from your eyes, resting the lenses on your forehead. Your gaze turned to the boy next to you, your jaw clenched.

“Do you actually need anything? Or are you here to bother me?”

You stared straight into his eyes, anger forming in the crinkle of your brows, your jaw visibly working on itself as you waited for the annoyance to answer.

“Well I would like my webshooter back, and Mr. Stark could have had it done by now.” Peter answered, pointing a sly finger at the device on your table.

“Listen-” You screwed your eyes shut, clenching a fist in front of you in an attempt to calm down. “If you wanna go ahead and bother my Dad from debrief just so he can finish your silly-string shooters then go ahead, be my guest.”

You turned back in your stool, pulling the goggles back over your eyes. You squeezed a screwdriver in your hand until your knuckles turned white.

“If not, then you are just gonna have to be patient and _wait_ for me to finish.”

You popped a panel open with the screwdriver before replacing the tool with a small welder. The end burned white as you fixed a new attachment to the device. Something your father had cooked up for the web-slinger.

Peter said nothing more, just merely huffing before taking a seat in a stool across from you.

You continued to weld the tiny parts together, sweat pooling into the cracks of your goggles. You felt your back muscles aching, being hunched over for so long.

There was a squeak. You ignored it.

The small implant took, now you had to rewire the actual device to the knew attachment. You replaced the welder with tweezers. There was another squeak. The muscles in your hands tensed. Your eyes were strained and probably bloodshot by now. You spent most of your day staring through these goggles, hunched over a hot lamp.

One more squeak.

You took a deep breath, focusing on the device in your hands. You just hand a few more wires to go, then you’re done.

Another squeak.

You just have to be delicate, loosen your fingers. You don’t want to mess up now.

Squeak.

Last wire, just get this last one in-

_SQUEAK!_

Your hand flinched, dislodging the new attachment completely and taking a few of the neighboring pieces with it.

“ _GODDAMMIT PARKER!_ ” You yelled, removing your goggles with a yank and throwing them at the boy in front of you. He caught them with ease, but the movement causing his chair to squeak once more. “I was _so close_! So close to getting you out of here and you just HAD to ruin _fourteen hours_ of work! Do you know how hard this is? I never worked on your stupid party poppers before and I managed to read and learn the inner workings and blueprints last night so I can fix them for you! But no! You wanted to be here and annoy me and squeak in that stupid chair! I haven’t slept Parker! I have barely even eaten because my Dad said this was important and he wanted this done before your stupid mission! God, I _hate_ you!” You screamed, you were standing in Peter now. During your rant, you had moved around the table and gotten in his face as he stared at you wide eyed. He didn’t move, it didn’t even look like he was breathing at this point. He’s seen you angry before, sure. But this was something else. This was from the heart, pure hatred spewing from your words. He couldn’t help but feel each stab from your words.

You were breathing heavy, your features seemingly in a snarl. You waited for a response. You realized you weren’t getting one, so you grabbed a fistful of your hair and tugged. You were so frustrated, and so _tired_. You just wanted to get this done, get one small task off your father’s list. But it was ruined. You messed up.

You heard your name by the door. You turned, anger still on your features.

Tony Stark stood in front of you both, arms crossed and a face lined with disappointment.

“Both of you. Common room.” He commanded.

“But I gotta finish-”

“ _Now_.” He interrupted.

You closed your mouth, holding back a good ol'fashion Stark retort. You turned, eyeing Peter. He looked at you with worry, but you just huffed. You walked past your father to the common room. Footsteps behind you followed you close.

 

“Now are you guys gonna talk to me or do I have to put you both in the ‘Get Along’ shirt?” You father asks. You sat on the couch with Peter, both of you facing away from each other. Your father was standing in front of you both, Steve sat on the love seat next to him. Natasha watched from her spot behind the couch.

“I was just doing what you asked.” You answered, not looking anywhere else but the floor.

“I didn’t ask you to throw lab equipment at Peter.” He says. You stay silent. “What about you? Got anything for me?” He asks Peter.

“No, sir. I was checking in on my webshooters.” Peter responds politely.

You let out a chuckle, all too sarcastic for anyone’s liking.

Steve says your name, forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t be disrespectful. You got somethin’ to say, then say it.” Steve has his brows furrowed at you, waiting for you to respond.

You chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment, thinking of your answer.

“Peter was being annoying.” You mumbled.

“Speak up.” Steve reminds.

“He was being annoying, disrupting me in my space!” You nearly shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Peter.

“I was being annoying? You were supposed to get my webshooters done by now! I have to train with them before going on the mission!” Peter defends.

“If you had just let me work on it in peace then you would have had them a long time ago! But you just wanted to annoy me and breathe down my neck while I worked!” Anger was filling in your throat again. Your face felt hot from yelling and you could hear your blood pumping in your ears.

“Enough! Both of you! Jesus Christ, I know you are kids but c'mon!” Your father pinches the bridge of his nose, mumbling to himself something about 'children’. “Go help out Bruce downstairs. I’ll finish the webshooters.”

“What? No! Dad please!” You begged, standing up to face your father. You hated being Bruce’s assistant. Sure, you loved him with all your heart. But his work was killer, and your father knew that. He always made you work with the doctor as punishment.

“Go on, I suggest you get a head start with what ever he needs help with. You’ll be in his lab for a week.” Your father begins walking back to your station.

“Tony, isn’t that a little harsh?” Steve speaks up.

“And you, Underoos. You’ll be on window duty.” Tony ignores Steve, giving Peter his own punishment.

“Mr. Stark! I just did the tower’s windows a week ago!” Peter pleaded.

“Well then the job shouldn’t be too hard right?” Tony answers back, stepping into your lab. The door shut behind him, leaving you and Peter to stare at the door in silence.

“Thanks a lot, glue-stick.” You spoke to Peter before you walked back to the common room elevator.

You heard Peter sigh in defeat, his own body moving to his room on the same floor.

“It’s not so bad kid.” Natasha commented as you walked by the couches. “Just a week and you’re done.”

“Yeah but this week is gonna feel like a year.” You already dreaded the week ahead. You really didn’t want to crunch numbers and work on graphs for the time.

“How 'bout this.” Natasha walked next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “When your week is up, how 'bout I take you out for ladies night. Your pick. We’ll ask Wanda and Pepper if they can come too.”

A smile formed on your lips.

“Can I ask Bucky?”

“Of course you can ask Bucky.”

Natasha left you in the elevator, a smile on her face as the door closes in front of you.


	2. Chapter 2

You sat in a stool, your back aching from lack of support. You kept rolling your shoulders, trying to relieve the itch from the old, oversized lab coat you were forced to wear. You struggled to keep your eyes open, slowly typing into a computer all the data that was scribbled onto a sheet of paper.

“Hey, Bruce. Can I take a break please?” You asked, crossing off one of the many lines on the sheet.

“Another one? Didn’t you just take one like 15 minutes ago” Bruce answers, his own focus on the screen in front of him. He was slowly filling out another chart for you to file.

You bobbed your head, closing your eyes for just a moment.

“Yeah but I think my eyes are gonna roll out of my head if I keep staring at this screen.” You pleaded.

“Just finish that sheet and you’ll be done for the day.” Bruce points his pen at the chart, peeking over his glasses to look at you.

You groaned, straightening your posture before continuing to type into the computer.

There was a gentle tap on the war wall, completely made of glass and gave the room a view of the New York skyline. You turned, finding Peter clung to the glass with a window wiper in his hand. He had his Spider-Man mask on, but the rest of his clothes was one of the janitorial uniforms.

You eyed him with scrutiny as he wiped a layer of soap onto the glass before spreading it around with the window wiper.

“Hey, Bruce?” You swiveled in your stool. “You think I can take Parker in a fight?”

“I’m not gonna indulge you by answering that.”

You pouted, turning back to your work. The gentle squeaks of Peter wiping the window could be heard behind you. You hoped he fell.

“I think I can take him…” You mumbled to yourself, filing one more line into the database.

 

It was you’re third day in community service. You felt like your fingers were going to individually fall off, and your back was going to forever stay in a hunchback position. You also stopped counting the amount of times you’ve been set on fire, especially with Bruce making you his lab assistant in his various projects and research. All tactics used to get you out of the work was futile, Bruce was a tough jailer.

“C'mon Bruce, I’m gonna fall asleep any second.” You pleaded, hoping he would give you a break and end the day early.

“Listen, Tony told me not to give you any breaks.” He took off his glasses, bringing his attention to you. “You’re almost finished, the less you complain the faster you can get out of here.”

You would have to resort to unorthodox tactics, you realized. You didn’t want to do this to him, but he gave you no choice.

You pouted your lips, widening your glossy eyes at him.

“Please, Uncle Bruce?”

He pointed an accusing finger at you, his head turning away.

“No! No! You will not do that!” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“C'mon, give you’re favorite Niece a break!” You pleaded, tugging at his heart strings.

Bruce stared you down. His eyes screwed shut as he shook his head. He was a sucker for this when you were 12, and he’s a sucker for it now.

“Get out of here.” He motions a lazy hand, waving you out of his lab. “And you better avoid your father like the plague, I don’t want to get in trouble too.”

You jumped out of your chair with a squeal, rushing over to his hunched over figure.

“Thank you so much!” You wrapped your arms around his neck, practically strangling him as you hugged him.

“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbled, his face contorted in defeat and shame. He will never be able to say no to you.

You left your singed lab coat among a rack of fresh ones. You rushed out to the elevator, waving goodbye at Bruce before the doors closed.

You stared out the glass cage as it slowly moved down to the floor you lived on. You watched as buildings below got closer, people moved on the street like ants, and car horns seemed to be whispers. The gentle hum of the motors moving the elevator could be the only thing heard, your mind focused on the nap you were going to take as soon as you got to your room.

Your view was obstructed for a moment, a sprawled figure popped up before disappearing in an instant.

You rushed to the far wall of the elevator, trying to catch a peak above you as the car continued on. You couldn’t get a clear view, but the sudden stop of the elevator signaled you had arrived.

You went to your room, not thinking much of the incident. The Tower was home to crazy things, nothing really surprised you here anymore.

You closed the door behind you, toeing your shoes off and leaving them by the door. Your room was relatively small, being that it was within the first bunch to be designed and made. You didn’t want to move to a bigger one, being that your room was already personalized, the walls a beautiful shade of lilac and photos adorning each side. You had posters of favorite bands and singers hung up next to news clippings of The Avengers. You, of course, being their number one fan.

You went into your closet, changing into a comfy t-shirt and shorts. Mjölnir was printed on your shirt, a bolt of lighting shooting from her. It was one of your favorites, being that it was an equal balance of comfort and fashion.

You began to crawl onto your bed, shoving aside plushies and teddy bears to make room. But the sudden knock on your balcony door startled you, sending you tumbling off the mattress. You looked up and over your bed, finding a janitorial Spider-Man peering into the glass.

You walked over, opening the door with a huff.

“What are you doing here?” You asked. He walked in, wipers and towels dripping onto your carpet.

“I was gonna ask _you_ that.” He retorts.

You squinted at him, unsure what he meant by that.

“I saw you in the elevator, but you aren’t supposed to be out of Dr. Banner’s lab for a while.” He observed. As he spoke, he looked around the room in curiosity. He eyed framed photos of you and your father. Others held milestones in your life, like your 14th birthday. You were in a beautiful sundress with the wind blowing in your hair, but what really caught Peter’s eye was Sam chasing after you while you flew in his wing suit. Natasha stood holding her stomach in the background, a wide grin to match her laughter. You made a face at the camera, showing your braces.

“So? What’s it to you?” You held our arms crossed, hoping your confidence would prevent Peter from Ratting you out.

Peter turned to face you. His mask was off at this point, shoved messily into his back pocket. He looked down at the ground a gloved hand reached up and scratched his dirty, sweat filled hair. Gross.

“I’m s…” He mumbled, the words never quite reaching your ears.

“What?”

“I said ‘I’m sorry'” He repeated.

You looked at him, eyebrows furrowed together in confused worry.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” You asked, still staring at Peter.

“Yes, Ma'am?”

“Can you do a live scan of the individual in my room, I think the tower’s been breached by shapeshifters.”

Peter dropped his hand to his side, staring up at the ceiling.

“Really?” He asked.

“Ma'am, the individual is 99.9% identical to Peter Parker.” F.R.I.D.A.Y responded.

You pointed an accusing finger at him, eyes widening in fear.

“WHO IS THE .1%?!” You shouted.

“I’m trying to apologize and you accuse me of being a shapeshifter!” Peter huffs.

You lower your hand, the small tinge of guilt rang in your chest. You looked at him once more, his face pleaded with you to just hear him out.

“You’re only apologizing because you got stuck cleaning the windows again.” You answered, trying to find the reasoning behind his apology.

“C'mon, we’ve been fighting since we first met and I don’t even know what I did wrong.” Peter admitted.

“Really? You don’t know why? For being a genius you’re pretty oblivious.” You replied. All form of guilt now gone. Your defensive walls were back up, ready to protect you.

“Oblivious? Maybe if you just actually said how you feel then you wouldn’t be stuck in this tower all day moping.” He said.

“Moping?”

“Yeah! All you do is sit in your lab in your own sadness and attack me every time you see me.”

“Well then you shouldn’t be following me around like a lost puppy anymore.”

“I’m trying to understand why you hate me so much!”

“There’s nothing to understand! You’re you!”

Peter stopped, unsure how to respond. You could see his jaw clenching, the muscles working in his cheek.

He turned, walking out of your room in just a few strides. The door slammed behind him, a small crack splintered from the door nob. Great, you have to replace it. Again.

You flopped onto your bed, screaming into the pillow. Why did anyone think it would be a good idea to shove two angsty teenagers together? Who thought of this?

There was a gentle knock at your door, one you were already familiar with.

“Come in.” You called out, turning your head towards the door.

The door was pushed open, a metal hand peeking through before a mop of brown hair made his way inside.

“What’s going on, Doll? I could hear you arguing from down the hall.” Bucky closed the door behind him.

“Were you ever an asshole as a teenager?” You asked him.

A low rumble of a chuckle resonated from him. He took a seat at the foot of your bed, you rolled over to face him.

“'Course I was.” He answered. “Stevie ever tell you the stories?”

You laughed, the memory of all those times Steve told you about Bucky. Even long before he was found, you had known him just from the tales of his and Steve’s younger days.

“So, you gonna tell me what’s going on?” Bucky grabbed your feet, pulling them onto his lap as you stay laying. His metal hand drummed on your legs, the cool steel chilled your skin giving you goosebumps.

“Parker’s getting on my nerves.” You mumbled.

“Why’s that?” Bucky asked, concern lacing his tone.

“I don’t know, he just…” You tried finding an answer, the only one coming up was something you were never willing to say. “…I just don’t like him, okay?”

Bucky hummed. His blue eyes leaving yours, looking at your polished toes and how your skin prickled with the swipe of his hand.

“Don’t you think that’s a little unfair?” Bucky finally responds.

“What’s unfair?” You ask, almost offended.

“You can’t even tell me why you don’t like him. I don’t think that’s very fair to the kid.”

You stared Bucky down, hating that he wasn’t wrong.

“Your father hated me for a long time, and for reasons he was actually able to name. Bucky spoke, his own mind wandering back to that fight in a German Airport. “But here I am, living under his roof and eating his food.”

He smiled at you. You knew exactly what that reason was, it was the same reason you didn’t want Bucky on the team either.

You never got to meet your grandparents. You heard the stories of your grandfather’s genius, his days working alongside Steve and his Howling Commandos. He was an American Hero, one you were proud to share a name with.

You also heard the stories of your grandmother, how she was able to tie down that Stark boy and really make him into a man. She was the type of woman you looked up to, strong and undeterred from a challenge.

Bucky had been the weapon used to kill them. It took you a while to realize that, long after your father did. But you gave him a chance, finding that he was much more a softy than you realized. He is a true friend to you know, someone you could always go to. The guilt of treating him so poorly still hung heavy on your heart, but he assured you it was okay.

“If he’s able to forgive me, I think it’s fair you at least give that skinny piece of velcro a chance.” You laughed as he finished. You sat up, pulling your legs from his lap and dangling them over your bed.

“Who knew you were actually good with words.” You teased, earning a glare from the super soldier.

“Excuse me? I used to be a hit with the ladies.” He responded with the shove of you shoulder.

“Any old man who says he was a 'hit with the ladies’ most definitely not a hit with the ladies.” You chuckled, poking fun at his age.

“Yeah, you’re right. Probably why I was only able to really snag Stevie.” He admitted with a smile.

“Are you sure you didn’t fall for _him_? I heard he had quite the glow up.” You joked.

“Glow up? What does that mean? Stevie doesn’t glow!” Bucky was confused, being the old man that he is.

You stood up, walking towards the door.

“Wanna go get burgers? I’m starving.” You asked, swinging the door open. You were still in pajamas, but the world has seen you in worse.

“Oh? You’re hungry? Thought the excuse you told Banner was that you were 'tired’.” Bucky stood up, walking behind you.

“Who told you?” You asked.

“Nothing stays a secret in a home full of spies, Doll.” Bucky told you, before lifting you up in one swoop and throwing you on his shouler. “So, instead of burgers how 'bout we go stop by Stark’s office and give him a quick 'Hello’?”

“BUCKY NO!” You squirmed under his iron grip, not wanting your dad to find out you left the lab early.

“Yup! Why don’t you ask him for burgers?”

 

Bucky carried you throughout the tower, passing familiar faces. Thor was even here, his visits from Asgard are rare. So to see him while you were being swung around like a ragdoll was not fun. Bucky even told him how you got in trouble, so you got praise for being a 'badass’ before Bucky shot him a look. His speech then took a turn towards honesty, and how every great warrior is held their honor in honesty. Though, he shot you a quick wink before you were taken into your father’s lab.

 

“Got you a present, Stark.” Bucky walked in, your body limp and lifeless against his shoulder.

“Hm. Three days, that’s a record. Thought she’d bolt by the second hour.” Your father spoke, cleaning his hands off a rang before turning to you and Bucky you said nothing. “What’s this? Hey, Sleeping Beauty!”

You didn’t move, still holding onto your act.

“She said my betrayal killed her. Her last words were 'Et tu, Brute?'” Bucky walked up to Tony, dropping your limp body on the table with a clang.

A grunt of pain could be heard from you, but nothing more.

“Well, one less mouth to feed. What should we do with this one? Feed her to Natasha, plant a tree in her body? Oh! I know! Cremation, spread her ashes into the ocean.”

“You know damn well I can’t swim.” You spoke.

“Ah! It’s alive!” Your father poked at your side, causing you to scrunch inward in reaction. “And when you’re ashes you can’t really do much of anything.”

You sat up finally, no longer being able to hide from your father. You gave Bucky a look. He smiled back.

“She wanted burgers, by the way.” Bucky commented as he stepped out.

“Oh? She makes requests.” Your father looked up at you, he still sat in his chair.

You shot him a smile, trying to ease him. “I’m hungry?” You told him.

He just nodded his head, turning back to his work.

“Alright. Get out of here. I want a double cheeseburger with large fries. Oh! And get me an Oreo shake. Thanks, Sweetheart.” He spoke quickly, waving you off his desk.

“Yes!” You mumbled to yourself as you ran out of the room.

But, you didn’t quite make it when your father spoke again.

“And take Peter with you.”


	3. Chapter 3

You sat at one of the many tables, a crumpled receipt in your hands. You kept checking the number every time an order was called, but it seemed to just make the time go slower. You checked your phone, finding no new notifications.

“Twenty-four!”

Your number was called and you got up in an instant, picking up one of the huge paper bags and a cup holder.

“Hey, sticky fingers!” You called out. Peter appeared next to you quickly. “Grab the other two.”

You watched as Peter reached out, but then slowly pulled back. He leaned against the counter top with crossed arms and an expression you wanted to punch.

“What’s the magic word?”

You inhaled slowly, closing your eyes and willing the anger to subside. Just breathe.

“Abracadabra.”

“Really?”

“Peter just grab the bags!” You commanded. “Please!”

He gave you a smile, one of victory and pride. But he grabbed the bags, and that’s what you cared about.

Both of you walked out of the restaurant with bags in hand, Peter stayed close behind as you navigated the busy streets. There were a lot more bodies this time of year, tourism around the city really picks up when schools are out for summer break.

Leaving the Tower earlier was terrible, especially with all the families crowding around trying to catch a glimpse of whatever Avenger would come by. Being Stark’s daughter, you weren’t exactly Disney friendly, so families tended to leave you alone. As for Peter, well, no one knows he’s Spider-Man. During moments like this, you were glad he decided to keep it a secret.

“Should we call Happy to pick us up?” You asked, turning over your shoulder so Peter could hear.

“Why, you already tired?” He answers back.

He caught you rolling your eyes as you faced forward. You didn’t answer him.

You both walked, weaving past people in the street. The closer to the Tower you got, the more costumes you bumped into. There were always people dressed up around the Tower, hoping they could get a picture with one of the Avengers. You thought it was nice, sometimes seeing families all dressed up in their own characters.

“Ugh…” You suddenly let out.

Peter looked up to see you staring at someone dressed fully in a Spider-Man costume. The suit looked handmade, but was pretty accurate to the real thing.

“You’re just jealous because no one dresses up like you.” Peter speaks behind you, his breath close to your ear. You shrugged away.

“Yeah because I’m just so jealous of that tight onesie you wear.” Your tone was dripping sarcasm. “Moments like this makes me happy I’m not an actual Avenger.”

You tried to play it off, not being an Avenger. But you couldn’t actually hide the sting of your own words once they left your lips. Peter for once noticed, and decided against saying any more.

The bag in your arms was warm, burgers and fries pooled all the heat on your forearm and stomach. The drinks weren’t all too easy easy, the cold drinks causing your hand to cramp up. You should have had Happy drive you here in the first place.

And to make your day better, some asshole on his phone rammed right into you. The drinks spilled all over the floor, including your dad’s Oreo shake.

“Watch it!” The pretentious bastard yells at you.

“Hey! You ran into her! Apologize!”

You turned, watching as Peter stared down the guy. He was a solid foot taller than Parker, and looked like he went to the gym a lot more often. Even the tattoo that peeked out of his collar added to the intimidation, it looked to be part of a snake. But you knew despite his physical appearance, he wouldn’t stand a chance against Peter, but you still didn’t want to cause a scene.

“Really? Apologize? Yeah right, nothing but a bunch of killers that Stark family is.” The guy pressed his phone back to his ear, resuming his conversation.

Peter took strides forward, but you pushed yourself in front of him.

“Woah! Pete, let it go!” You pressed your now free hand on his chest, holding him back from following the guy. People had stopped around you, pulling out phones as soon as they recognized who you were. It wouldn’t be the first time you pulled a stunt like this in public.

Peter’s eyes were trained on the guy as he walked away. His jaw clenched, the tendons could be seen tightening under his cheeks. His chest heaved, his skin was warm through the thin material of his t-shirt. He was more than angry. He was boiling.

“He can’t just go around treating people like that! And what he said about you, that’s not right!” He was going off, the bags in his hands ruffling with each motion he took.

“Hey, it’s alright. He’s gone—Peter, look at me. I’m fine.” You told him, boring your own eyes into his. He took a few deep breaths before shaking his head. He kept walking.

 

You arrived at the Tower a few minutes later, food in hand but no shakes. You told your father you forgot to order them, shooting Peter a look to keep his mouth shut about what really happened. He said nothing.

Everyone gathered at one of the many kitchens in the Tower, you and Peter both passing out everyone’s order while people found their seats either at the table or at the kitchen island. You watched as Natasha would snag fries from everyone else, despite having her own bag. Thor and Bucky both had the biggest orders, not only did they order triple cheeseburgers but they both got two each. They also asked for vanilla and chocolate shakes, but they were melted on the street. You sat with your own small order between Wanda and Steve. Wanda would share a bit of her burrito with you when you commented how amazing it looked. You also stole Steve’s cajon fries when he wasn’t looking, since you didn’t order any yourself.

Everyone seemed happy, all talking among each other. But you noticed a certain headache was missing, and when you looked up you found that Peter was quiet. His head down while he poked his fries into a mound of ketchup. Clint nudged him, saying something you couldn’t quite hear. But you watched as whatever he said made Peter shake his head, a smile returning and that bubbly boyish attitude returned. Clint turned away, back to his own food. But you couldn’t help but notice that glow was no longer in Peter’s eyes.

“So!” Thor’s booming voice caught your attention. “I see you’re a fan.”

He points a finger at your shirt, and taking a glance you remembered you had your Mjölnir shirt on.

“Of the hammer, not you.” You teased. Wanda chuckled next to you. “She’s pretty badass.”

Thor laughed, wiping his hands with wrinkled napkins. He took large strides to quickly stand next to you. Steve had already gotten up to clean his mess.

“Do you want to see if you are worthy, little Stark?”

Thor brought up the hammer, her glistening beauty shining in front of you.

“No, no way.” You answered, trying to wave him off.

“C'mon! We all tried it.” Clint commented.

You laughed, turning in your chair to yell back at Clint.

“You were all drunk! And I’m not sure if I wanna know!” You defended.

“Yeah, that’s too heavy a question.” Nat added. She picked up her wrappers and joined Steve in the kitchen, helping him clean plates or cups.

Thor kept flipping Mjölnir in the air, teasing for you to try and lift her. You saw her symbol on the side, Thor explained that was her seal. The very thing that kept the unworthy from lifting her. That little etch in her metal decided who can and cannot wield her. What a world you lived in.

“If you lift it, then you don’t have to work in Bruce’s lab for the rest of the week.” Your father offered.

“Drop it.”

You wiped your hands and stood up from your chair. Thor dropped the hammer at his feet in an instant and took a step back, giving you room to give it your go.

“You got this, punk!” Sam cheered you on, making you a little more nervous. The rest of the Avengers were watching, even Peter you realized.

“I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I?” You asked, your voice only low enough to be heard by Thor. He chuckled, answering with a lighthearted “probably”.

You let out a deep breath, leaning forward and gripping the leather around her handle. It was smooth, you realized. Something so soft doesn’t belong on a weapon of war.

But before you could lift, before the answer to a question you didn’t want to know could be answered, F.R.I.D.A.Y. chimed in.

“Boss?” She called out, a little too worried for your liking.

“What’s up?” Your father answered. Everyone looked at him as F.R.I.D.A.Y. continued to talk.

“Th—There’s a disturbance. Somet—is infiltrating my system.” The skips and sharp static made your heart drop, F.R.I.D.A.Y never had moments like this, even in her Beta phases.

Your father immediately stood up, Bruce following close behind. You watched him pull up various screens from his phone, displaying them on the television across the room.

“Sweetheart, get in the lab right now. Run a diagnosis on F.R.I.D.A.Y.” Your father commanded with a rush, you took no time to protest. You could hear him asking F.R.I.D.A.Y more questions as you ran to the elevator. The screen stayed blank, no matter how many times you slammed on it. So you took the stairs, rushing as quickly as you can.

You got to your floor quickly, pushing the door open instead of waiting for it to open for you. You shoved aside the mess at your desk, quickly typing your login to your monitor. The screen was visibly compromised, applications and data was either missing or corrupted. So you had to run a diagnosis manually through the command prompt. You typed in various systems one by one: Power, communication, F.R.I.D.A.Y, Iron Suits. It all showed as functional, but clearly F.R.I.D.A.Y wasn’t working properly. She couldn’t even move the elevators.

It was when you typed in security did you really start to panic.

It didn’t even show “failed” like it should have, it gave you a message saying “Not Found.”

“What?” You mumbled to yourself, not sure how to continue. Before you could even type anything else, the screen blanked. A short moment of static then filled the screen before a symbol popped up on the monitor. It was of a lion’s head, its mouth showing off its large teeth and fearsome demeanor.

“ _ **You will pay for your crimes, Tony Stark.**_ ”

A voice spoke, distorted and unrecognizable. You tried shutting down the video, but nothing worked.

“ _ **You built an empire on the bodies of families.**_ ”

Your eyes were watering, a desperate attempt to shut down the entire system was futile.

“ _ **The blood of children are spilled on your hands.**_ ”

You unplugged the monitor. The screen went blank. But it was then did you realize that the television in the common room was playing the same message.

“ _ **We will not stop until you have paid with your life, with your family’s life.**_ ”

You stood in front of the screen, your hand covering your mouth to prevent the whimpers from escaping.

“ _ **We will start with your daughter, you will watch her suffer the way our children suffered.**_ ”

Your skin crawled, tears finding their way down your cheeks. Your heart was pumping in your ears relentlessly.

“ _ **There is nothing you can do, there is nothing you WILL do.**_ ”

The screen started to distort more heavily, more static replaced the Lion symbol.

“ _ **Any attempt to stop us will cost the lives of innocents, we will stop at NOTHING to get our revenge. For you to face justice.**_ ”

You fell to your knees, covering your ears desperately with your hands.

“ _ **Death awaits, Stark. It will be soon now.**_ ”

The message cuts out. All sound from the Tower is gone. There is no hum of energy, no breeze from the air conditioning and no light from the lamps. It was all gone, dead.

You could only hear your whimpers now, each sob intended to call back the life in the Tower.

You didn’t hear the door open, you didn’t even hear the quick steps to your side. You were startled by the arms that wrapped around you, quickly turning on the defensive. Your father called your name until you stopped hitting him.

“Sweetheart, it’s me! Shh, shh. You’re alright, you’re alright.” Your father soothed, letting you cry into his shirt.

You looked up with red, puffy eyes. Your father wiped away the tears that fell.

“H-How? How did they get in?” You asked through hiccups. You heard the humming of various devices turning back on, the lights awoke brightly.

“I don’t… I don’t know, sweetheart. F.R.I.D.A.Y was our first line of defense. And she’s practically fried now.” He answered, uncertainty lacing his voice. “Her software’s completely corrupted…”

You watched as Steve approached behind your father, a look of worry lined his features.

“Tony, we gotta get to work.” He spoke lightly.

Your father stroked your hair further, planting a kiss on top of your head before standing with you.

“Yeah, yeah. We got work to do.” He repeated to himself.

You were tucked under his arm, walking back upstairs with Steve close behind.

Everyone turned as soon as the three of you walked in the room, looks of worry all being directed at you.

“Hey, c'mon let’s go to my room.” Wanda offered politely, a hand reaching out for you.

“I’m not—you don’t have to shelter me.” You spoke, shrugging out of your fathers grip.

“We’re not sheltering you, just let us figure this out.” Natasha spoke, trying to get you to follow Wanda.

“What is there to figure out? Some psycho group wants me and my dad dead!” You shouted, the tears returning with no remorse. “They are willing to kill innocent people to do so!”

Someone called out your name, so you turned.

“No one’s gonna die, we aren’t gonna let that happen.” Bucky tried to assure.

“And I want to help.” You pleaded. Looking from face to face trying to find someone who agrees with you.

“That might not be the best, babe.” Natasha spoke up again.

You let out a huff, stepping away from the group.

“I can help, I can try an-and figure out how they got to F.R.I.D.A.Y, I can do something!”

“Sweetheart, they threatened you. I don’t want you anywhere near this.” Your father spoke up. His tone holding a level of seriousness you’ve only heard a few times in your life.

You looked up at him, your lip quivered as he stared right through your eyes. You didn’t want to sit back, not when you can help.

You just started walking away, you can hear your name being called but you ignored it all. Your furious steps eventually took you to your room, and you slammed it with so much force that the crack grew wider. Soon, you might not even have a door.

You stood in the middle of your room, staring down at your feet. You watched as tears were absorbed into the carpet, some hitting your toes. You began to peel away your clothes, stripping away the now uncomfortable outfit. And you stayed like that for a while, crying to yourself in nothing but your underwear. It wasn’t until you dropped to the floor did you stop, something catching your eye.

You thought it was the tears at first, blurring and distorting your vision. But crawling to your thrown shirt and taking a closer inspection, you found a tiny device stuck to the side of the shirt. It blended in with one of Mjölnir’s lightning bolts, but peeling away the tiny device made you realize something.

They already had gotten to you, they planted this small device on you and managed to wreak havoc in your home. They’ve already touched you.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHOS ALIVE AND FINALLY UPDATED THE STORY ON AO3 YALL IF YOU HAVE TUMBLR PLEASE GO FOLLOW THAT BLOG BECAUSE IVE HAD THIS CHAPTER ON THERE FOREVER AND I JUST DIDNT PUT IT ON HERE BC IM A LAZY PIECE OF GARBAGE [@magic-marvel](https://magic-marvel.tumblr.com/)

You ran out of your room, wiping the tears away as you rushed to one of the meeting rooms. You held your shirt in your hand, the small device in the other. You had to take the stairs again, since F.R.I.D.A.Y was unable to operate them.

Soon, you found the room they were meeting at. You can see through the clear glass that they had holograms and screens all displaying something different. Some ran GPS scans of New York, exactly what it was scanning for you couldn’t tell. There was another one, rebooting F.R.I.D.A.Y in hopes that the corruption was only for the duration of the hack.

So, reaching the door, you burst in. Most of the Avenger’s were in the room, even Rhodes came by after he heard what happened.

“Dad! I know how they did it!” You interrupted whatever your father was saying, causing him and the rest of the team to look at you.

“Wh-Are you serious? Sweetheart put some clothes on!” Your dad told you, but you ignored him.

“Listen, they put this on my shirt!” You held up the device, not really caring that the men in the room uncomfortably shifted as you walked in closer with nothing but mix matched bra and panties.

Natasha was the first to approach, taking the device from your hand and inspecting it closely.

“This was on your shirt?” She asked. You watched as she held it pinched gently between her index and thumb, inspecting the tiny device.

“Yeah, it’s probably how they bypassed F.R.I.D.A.Y.” You answered. Bundling up your t shirt in your hand.

With one quick movement, Natasha dropped the tiny device on the floor, smashing it as best she could with the heel of her boot.

“Oh.” You looked at the floor, it looked like the squished body of a bug. Seems fitting.

“Why would you do that? We could have analyzed it, Nat.” Bruce called from behind the table.

“What if that thing turns back on? They could use it at anytime to get through the Tower’s security.” Nat explained.

“Is no one gonna question the fact that there is no reason for her to not have pants on?” Rhodes commented.

You handed your shirt to your father, giving him an opportunity to check for any other ‘hidden treasures’.

“Rhodey, you’ve changed my diaper. You’ve seen me in a lot less than just pants.”

Rhodes couldn’t argue, simply nodding to himself as he sat back down.

“Hey guys so droney couldn’t find—oh my God you’re naked.”

Peter walked in, his eyes wide as he looked at you. He struggled to keep eye contact, diverting his gaze to the floor or ceiling.

“You sent out Droney?” You asked, taking steps closer. It seemed to make him more uncomfortable. “Why? Do we have any suspects?” You turned seemingly asking the room.

“Uhh… well you know that guy wh-who bumped into you?” He asked, still keeping his eyes above you.

“Yeah?” You thought back to that moment, the man shoving against you and causing to spill the drinks.

Wait, what did he say to you again?

“He called us murderers…” You mumbled to yourself, the gears turning and the lights flickering on in your head. “He could have been the one who put that on me…” You looked back at the little squished device on the floor.

“Wait, put what on you?” Peter asked. You brought him up to speed, telling him about finding the device on your shirt. It also explained why you were currently naked.

“Nothing came up, shirts clean.” Your father came back into the room after presumably scanning your shirt. “But I wanna come by your room later, see if there’s anything else.”

You nodded. You took the shirt in your hand, thumbing over the Mjölnir design. The shirt was wrinkled now, a mess of tears and anger. You just wanted to throw it away at this point.

“Do remember anything about the man? Pete gave a description but maybe you remember something else?” Steve asked, also trying not to look at you completely.

“Uhh, well. He was a big guy. Dark hair, looks like he abuses his gym membership.” You described, seemingly by everyone else’s reaction this was what Peter had told them. “He had a tattoo on his neck too, I couldn’t see it clearly but it looked like part of a snake.”

That’s what grabbed everyone’s attention, this was new information.

“Okay, so someone with a neck tattoo. That should narrow it down.” Wanda commented with optimism. “But isn’t this a group? The message kept saying 'we’.”

Wanda was right, there was more to this story than Neck-Tattoo guy. You practically had nothing on them, not even identification on this guy. With F.R.I.D.A.Y down for now, it’s going to take even longer.

“Hey, Pete. Talk to May, you both are moving in until we figure out what’s going on.” Your father offered.

It took you by surprise, the sudden declaration from your dad almost scared you. Did he think they were in danger too?

“Yeah, I’ll let her know tonight.” Peter answers.

“No, Happy is gonna take you over there right now.” Your father answered. He was typing on his phone, presumably texting Happy to get the car ready. “Get downstairs, kid. He’s gonna be out front soon.”

Peter nodded his head, taking his leave soon after. You stood in the room for the moment while everyone seemingly resumed what they were doing.

So you ran after Peter.

“Hey! Command Strip!” You called out. Peter turned quickly, and then moved his gaze away again.

“C-Can you like put something on? Like I-I’m sure you’re cold. You gotta be cold”

“We gotta find that guy.” You spoke low, ignoring his previous statement.

“Isn’t that what everyone else is doing?” Peter asked, unsure where you were going with your statement.

You looked down at your socks, chewing the inside of your cheek before answering.

“They don’t want me to help. But I think I can really do something!” You defending.

Peter ran a hand through his chocolate locks, some strands bouncing back to his forehead.

“Maybe… Maybe that’s for the best.” He answered, this time being able to finally look into your eyes.

“The best? These people threatened me and my dad and I’m supposed to sit back and do nothing?” You argued. Peter called your name, trying to calm you down. “Listen, you pulled the same shit with the Vulture so I’m coming to you hoping you can help me.”

Peter let out a breath, but he let you continue.

“As far as we know, they’ll be coming after me first, right?” You clarified.

“Where are you going with this.” Peter deadpanned, not wanting you to finish your plan.

“Well maybe if I’m out there, it’ll draw 'em out. You can be like, my muscle.” You poked his arm, realizing that he was a lot skinnier than you realized. His ability really packed a punch.

“All we gotta do is catch one, that’s it. We bring one of them back to the Tower and we can let the rest of the team do the rest.”

You reasoned with him, pleaded with each look in his eyes. You wanted to help your family, even if they didn’t want you to.

In a last ditch effort, you grabbed his hand from his side and held it tightly between your own hands.

“Please, Peter. I just want to help.”

He thought about it, felt the gentle shake in your hands as you squeezed. Peter saw the desperation in your eyes, but he also saw how scared you were. The undeniable sense of fear and anxiety. Peter has never seen this from you, and it scared him.

“We’ll talk about it when I get back, okay?” Peter told you, and you let out a breath of relief. You let go of his hand, allowing him to walk over to the stairs.

“And can you please put something on, at least for May!” Peter called back. You chuckled, promising nothing as you walked back to your room.

–

May would live on the same floor as Wanda and Natasha, which happened to be the floor below you. However, because your father wants you to suffer, he put Peter in the room next to you. “Extra security” for you, he called it. Whatever, it was bullshit, and you were going to make sure your dad knew that.

Little did he know though, that this little situation would actually help you in the long run.

You knocked on Peter’s door late in the night, hoping he would hold up his word and help you. Peter opened the door, hair tousled and shorts handing low.

“What time is it?” He asked, voice low and that sleepy timber riddled each word.

“12, or maybe 4 in the morning I don’t know I wasn’t keeping track.” You answered before shoving him aside. He closed the door behind you while you took a seat in his still warm bed.

“What are you doing here?” Peter questioned, rolling into his bed and scooting under the covers behind you. You felt the bed dip under his weight, slowly leaning back into his thighs.

“You said you were gonna help me.” You told him. “Ya'know, with the crazy dude that ran into me earlier.”

“I thought I said we would talk about it.” Peter mumbled, his eyes closed and his mouth just barely open.

“And we’re talking about it.” You stated.

You crawled up to him laying your head on his pillow. You stayed on top of the covers, staring at him intently before speaking again.

“So, when are we gonna do it?”

His eyes flew open at that statement, staring back into yours.

“Wh-what?” He muttered out, slowly shifting under the covers.

“When are we gonna go out there, lure this guy out.” You clarified. His shock expression barely calmed. You were oblivious to your previous statements double entendre.

You began crawling under the sheets, the air conditioning seemingly working in overdrive.

“You do know what personal space is, right?”

“Yeah, but because it’s you I’m gonna pretend it doesn’t exist.”

You stole most of his blanket, which wasn’t a lot. The mattress was a single, so it was relatively easy to steal from Peter.

“So I was thinking, tomorrow we come up with an excuse to go out. And hopefully my presence alone would lure the guy out, I mean who wouldn’t. It’s me.” You explained, curling the blanket around you like a burrito and leaving Peter to the cold. “But I was also thinking that my dad won’t want me going out, so I can just loop the security footage for the night and sneak out then.”

Peter listened to you talk, going through the plan at 12 or 4 in the morning. He was tired, out of his right mind. And a little worm of a thought dug through his head, planting a seed of corruption. Peter didn’t want to be thinking like this, not about you. He dislikes you, and you hate him. It doesn’t make sense, none of it does. And yet, he couldn’t help but find you cute.

“So, what’d you think?”

Peter pretty much lost track of what you were saying, he couldn’t recall the last word if his life depended on it. He just stared for a moment, trying to collect himself before answering.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

You smiled, before just as quickly it turned into a frown.

“How come it’s socially acceptable for a guy to be shirtless but I can’t be shirtless in my own home?” You answered with a tight winkle between your brows.

“We live in a patriarchal society that aims to keep women down with concepts such as social norms that prevent women from expressing themselves the same way that men can.” F.R.I.D.A.Y suddenly answered, scaring you and Peter in the bed.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y! You’re back!” You called out, a huge smile on your face as the blanket fell over your shoulders.

“Hello, ma'am. Your father would like to know why you are up so late with Mr. Parker.” She quickly addressed why she was here, causing you to frown.

“Why is he up so late?” You diverted, hoping that your father would leave you alone.

You shifted in the bed, sitting up completely with the blanket wrapped around you. Peter felt the cold air against his bare chest, but he wouldn’t dare try and take the blanket away from you.

“He spent all night reconfiguring my data and files.” She answered politely. You lay back down, a suspicious squint in your eyes.

“Tell my dad to stop spyin’ on me or ill turn his Mark XLVII into a toaster.”

You waited patiently for a reply, which didn’t take long.

“Your father asked me to relay this message word for word so excuse my language miss, ‘Get your ass in your own room or I’ll turn you into a toaster.'”

Peter chuckled beside you, earning a smack against his bicep. He stuck his tongue out, gently rubbing at the sore muscle. You climbed on him, holding him down as you continued to slap against his bare torso.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, do me a solid babe.” You spoke, still hitting the laughing boy under you.

“Of course, ma'am.”

“Can you put a heat sig in my room. Tell my dad I’m going.”

At this point you stopped hitting Peter, but he was still laughing at your poor attempts to attack the boy. You still straddled him, holding him down to prevent any sort of retaliation. You knew he could throw you off with a flick, but he wouldn’t dare try. You held onto the blanket tightly, it draped over Peter and finally allowed him some comfort of warmth.

“Miss, I don’t think that-”

“I will tell Vision you have a crush on him.”

Peter looked up at you, eyes wide at your last statement. You waited for the reply, the semblance of a mischievous smile appearing on your features.

“The heat signature is on your bed, your father is now returning to his room.”

You smiled, rolling off of Peter and returning to your spot on the bed. This time however, you took up most of the space. Forcing Peter to scoot over, his side was pressed against your front while you stared up at him.

“Alright, so tomorrow is game day. Whatever I say tomorrow you have to go with, okay?”

You poked at his side, making sure he was paying attention. He squirmed at the touch, scooting even further off the bed.

“I still don’t know why I agreed to this.” Peter mumbled.

He started slipping off the bed, and before he knew it he was a flailing mess of limbs who hit the floor with a thump. You stuck your head over the bed, covering your smile with a tight hand. Peter was groaning into the floor, his chocolate curls stuck out in every direction. Some accusingly pointed at you, as if blaming you for this fall. Well, rightfully so but that’s not the point.

“Thanks for the bed, Spider-Boy.” You spoke, holding back a laughter. You rolled over into the middle of the bed, the blanket completely engulfing you.

Before you could get comfortable, however, Peter rose back up from the ground and climbed onto the bed.

“Hey, what are you—PETER NO!”

Peter smacked right on top of you, squishing you between his own body and the bed. He went limp, faking a snore as he lay on top of you. His face was pressed against your own, threatening to drool on you.

But no matter how hard you pushed and kicked, Peter didn’t budge. He stayed splayed over you, trapping you completely.

“Parker! Get off me!” You squirmed, until the short snort of a snore broke his silence. It didn’t sound like his fake snores, and it sure as hell didn’t feel like he was trying to hold you down anymore.

“Are… Are you asleep? Oh my God, you asshole!” You pushed and pushed but nothing worked. You even found that his fingertips stuck to the blanket, anchoring him further into the bed. You didn’t know that was possible, but you suppose that it would make sense his powers are unpredictable in his sleep.

There were a few more snores, but you couldn’t mistake the loose shut of his eyelids. He really was asleep, and there was no way of getting out now.

You felt his chest rise against yours, a slow steady breath tickling your ear as he slept deeply. You wanted to throw him off, punch him until he woke up, but you couldn’t help how peaceful he looked. Even though as he slept he annoyed you, you decided that there was nothing more you can do than embrace your fate and try to sleep in your confinement. At least then, would your sentence go quicker.


	5. Chapter 5

You felt warm and secure. Your mind was floating away in the infinite wonder that is your dream, mystical colors and long for gotten faces greeted you warmly. You were content, happy in a world made up of your own knowledge and imagery. You didn’t want to wake up.

But you eventually did, finding yourself stirring awake in an unfamiliar place. But you were so warm, so comfortable in these fresh sheets that you didn’t mind where you woke up. You fit perfectly against the bundle next to you, a gentle tightness was wrapped around you that made you sink further into the bed.

You opened your eyes, finding yourself facing a window. The curtains were still closed, but the bright morning sun still shined through. The sheets were still wrapped around you, keeping a tight hold on you.

But it was when you decided to pull them away did you realize it wasn’t the sheets holding you.

It took you a moment, a few sleepy seconds to realize that an arm was tightly wrapped around your waist. A hand was held tightly against your stomach, pushing you further into what you thought was another bundle of sheets.

You followed the arm, finding it’s owner still sound asleep next to you.

Peter was gently snoring, his face mere centimeters from your own. His curls were everywhere, sticking out in any direction possible. You stared at him for a moment, shock preventing you from moving any further.

“Morning, Doll.”

A voice scared you upright, you sat up against Peter’s arm, but he merely shifted. He was still asleep as the intruder greeted you.

Bucky was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, one of his tactical knives was sticking out of the arm rests. He looked at you with a glare that could freeze hell over.

“You know, when I said give the kid a chance, this is not at all what I meant.”

You looked back down at Peter, his face was scrunched up. He was probably waking up from the disturbance.

“This is not what it looks like.” You pointed an accusing finger at Bucky, attempting to hold his glare. But he never wavered, he kept his icy blues on you while pulling the knife back out of wooden chair. You watched as he carefully spun it on one hand, his other holding his chin.

“What’s going on?” Peter spoke with a low timber in his voice. He was finally awake.

You watched as he sat up, his eyes still swollen and squinted from sleep. You felt the grip on your side tighten for just a moment. But he looked over at you, pulling it away just as quickly and brought his hand up to rub his eyes.

“So, Spider-Boy. Tell me, would you rather keep your fingers or your toes?” Bucky finally broke away his gaze to stare down Peter.

That sure as hell woke both of you up.

–

“Bucky! Nothing happened!”

You and Peter escaped to the common room, he was stuck to the ceiling while you held Bucky back. You pushed against his chest as best you could, but the super soldier could mow you down like overgrown grass.

“Nothing, huh? Listen, I may be an old man but I was a teenager once too! I know what ‘Nothing’ means!” Bucky took more steps forward, Peter continued to crawl away as he approached.

“Mr. Bucky, sir, I swear I did nothing to your niece! I didn’t even realize I fell asleep on top of her–”

“YOU WERE ON TOP OF HER?”

You watched as Bucky threw the knife, Peter quickly dodged it. It now stuck halfway into the ceiling, something that was supposed to have steel reinforcements and a fiberglass layer. And this silly little knife tore through it like tissue paper.

“BUCKY! You can’t kill him! I _swear_ to you nothing happened! We just ended up falling asleep okay?” You tried holding onto his arm, preventing from pulling out another knife. But he moved through you like nothing, aiming the second knife straight for Peter. You wrapped your own hand over his as Peter desperately tried crawling into the adjacent room.

“Steve! Stevie!” You tried calling out, hoping he could hear you.

Bucky pulled away from your hand, scooping you up and holding you like a lost puppy under his arm. No matter how much you flailed and begged, Bucky kept carrying you against his side as he chased Peter into the next room. You watched as he climbed through doorways to finally find a room with other people, luckily, Steve was one of them.

“I’M GOING TO DIE!” Peter crawled in screaming, Steve and Natasha looked up to find him still shirtless and in his pajama bottoms. It was an odd sight, and even odder declaration. But they both realized what was going on when Bucky came in throwing yet another knife into the ceiling. You were still tucked under his arm grabbing at furniture to try and slow him down.

Steve was the first to get up, rushing straight for you and Bucky. Natasha stood up on the chair she was sitting on. You could see her helping Peter down and away from the weapon in the ceiling.

“What’s going on?!” Your dad got up from his spot on the couch, Pepper looked up from her tablet next to him.

“Why don’t you tell him, _Doll?_ ” Bucky kept pushing away Steve, preventing him from grabbing you.

It was at this did Steve turn his efforts to you, furrowing his brows in question at Bucky’s statement. Bucky held onto yet another knife, ready to throw it before Steve held him down.

“Nothing happened, Buck! You are just overreacting!” You tried defending. You saw Natasha hold Peter behind her. It was a funny sight, finding the slightly shorter woman protecting the half naked teenager behind him.

“You wanna explain, Sweetheart? Or are we gonna get Peter’s Aunt up here to get it out of you?”

“NO!”

You and Peter both shouted, desperate to convince them not to bring May in. She already struggled with accepting that her nephew was Spider-Man, but it would be a whole other level for her to see his own teammates trying to kill him.

“We slept together!” Peter suddenly shouted, causing every single head to turn, including yours.

“You WHAT?” Your dad shouted, staring you down before point at Peter. “UNDER MY ROOF?”

“DAD! Not like that! He means we fell asleep together! God, Parker, you’re an _idiot!_ ”

Pepper stood up, taking cautious steps toward you and Bucky. She held a hand up as she approached, gently pressing against Bucky’s forearm to bring his hand down. Her touch seemingly stilled him, calming him in an instant.

“This is gonna be good.” You heard Natasha comment as Pepper removed the knife from Bucky’s hand. She held the metal as if it was poisoned, cautiously placing it on the table away from Bucky. From what you knew about your super soldier uncle, he probably had another 3 stashed in various places on his person.

“You wanna at least let her go, Buck?” Steve negotiated. Bucky let you go that instant, leaving you to hit the floor with a loud _thump._

You looked back up, glaring at Bucky. He just stared back at you even colder, daring you to say something. You didn’t.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, can you get May up here.” Your father commanded.

“DAD NO!”

“PLEASE MR. STARK DON’T BRING MAY INTO THIS!”

You both kept screaming over each other, begging your father not to bring up May. You loved the woman, and always appreciated a visit from her. But damn, did she know how to make you feel guilty. Especially after that one time she caught you and Peter trying to stick all of her furniture on the ceiling, you never thought you would ever feel the type of guilt from a simple sigh and a crossing of arms. She knew how to play with both of your emotions, and it’s probably one of the reasons Peter was generally a good kid most of the time. She was a great parent, one you wouldn’t want to get on the bad side with.

“Tony, is this really something for May?” Pepper tried defending. She knew she might be a voice of reason in your father’s irrational mind, but with this situation she might not be much help.

The elevator dinged, prompting the screaming to stop and everyone to turn.

“Hey! Umm, the nice lady in the walls told me to come up here—why are there knives in the ceiling? Isn’t that dangerous?”

May approached, oblivious to the situation at hand. It only made it worse, you didn’t want to see her reaction in person. She played with her necklace as she walked to the crowd, scrunching her eyebrows when she found Peter practically naked behind Natasha.

“Hey…” Peter awkwardly waved, May waved back.

“Petey, why don’t you have clothes on? We are guests in Mr. Stark’s home you can’t be walking around like this, babe.” May already began scolding. You can only hope that yours would be quick and painless.

“My idiot kid and your sticky fingers nephew slept together.” Your dad suddenly spoke up.

May immediately took off her glasses, staring at Peter with wide eyes.

“NO, no! We did not _sleep_ together. Okay, yes, we slept in the same bed but we didn’t have–”

“Peter Benjamin Parker.”

You whimpered. The dreaded middle name, you’ve heard it too many times from your own father to know what’s coming.

“Are you serious? Tony Stark has been kind enough to let us stay here and the first Goddamn night we spend here you sleep with his _daughter?_ ” May shifted closer, making Natasha move out of the crossfire in an instant. Leaving a naked Peter to face the onslaught alone. “You know how irresponsible that is! Did you even have the decency to use protection!”

“Oh God, May please–”

“I know you just recently grew into your own body and you are becoming the beautiful flower that we all become but this is NOT what I meant by exploring yourself!”  
“Mrs. Parker please it’s not at all–”

“And YOU!” May turned an accusing finger in your direction. “Did he force you? Did he ask for consent? Did you make him wear protection?”

She fired question after question, making you want to melt through the floor and disappear into the pits of hell below. It would be an easier fate than having this talk in front of your family.

“I–”

“Sweetheart if he touched you without consent–”

“NOTHING HAPPENED!”

You didn’t even realized you had shouted, interrupting your father. You were breathing heavy, face hot from both embarrassment and anger. No one listened to you or Peter, and it was beginning to frustrate you. From the look on Peter’s face, he was relieved that it all finally stopped. You felt bad that most of the heat was on him, but you felt that he handled it better than you ever would.

“I just fell asleep in his room, okay? I swear nothing happened.” You spoke once more, hoping that finally they could hear you. Bucky gave you an apologetic look, for once looking guilty for attacking Peter.

“Is this true?” May turned to Peter, he gave her an affirmative nod in return. You watched as May and your dad exchanged a look, something you couldn’t quite decipher between the parents.

You stood in your spot, looking down at your feet before a gentle hand placed themselves on your shoulder. You looked up to find strawberry hair and freckles, Pepper gave you a warm smile.

“Cut your father some slack, you know he meant well.” She whispered to you, rubbing a thumb delicately over your cheek. She always was a mother to you, being the figure to teach you about womanhood and how much of an idiot your dad could be. She was one of the few people you got to interact with daily, that was before the Avengers assembled. Now you have a whole family, one giant ragtag group of oddities to love.

“Hey, babydoll. I’m sorry for how I reacted.” Bucky stood next to Pepper. She stepped aside so he could talk to you face to face. You couldn’t help but smile.

“You know, you should teach me that.” You pointed up at the ceiling, bringing his attention to the knife still stuck halfway. “Might come in handy someday.”

“Yeah right, you’re just tryna’ get revenge on me.” Bucky clasped a hand on your shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze. But after taking on look at you, he pulled you into a tight hug making you squeal and squirm.

Natasha thought the whole situation was hilarious, especially since your father was acting like a real dad for once. You tried giving her a dirty look for laughing at your pain, but one smile from her and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Before you could shuffle back to your own room, May approached you. She held an apologetic expression, her hand reached out to your bicep.

“I’m sorry to put you on the spot, Sweetie.” You were about to say something when she continued. “But please, when he finally makes his move you better make sure he treats you right. I didn’t raise him to be disrespectful.”

You looked at her with a puzzled expression, unsure if you heard her correctly. You tried formulating a sentence, ask a question to something you don’t want answered. But you couldn’t, leaving Pepper to take May back downstairs while you stood in your own heap of confusion.

Maybe Bucky should have killed you both when he had the chance.


	6. Chapter 6

It was 11:36 PM.

You awaited for the right moment, the perfect opportunity to execute your plan. There was no second chances, not even a plan B. This needed to go how you expected it to or it wouldn’t work at all. So you waited.

11:38 PM.

You watched it fall in place, the pieces of a puzzle you already solved. You watched as Bruce left his lab for the night. He sent you a quick goodnight before going his way. He was the last to be in the common areas of the Tower, a few members were still awake in their respective rooms. But with Bruce now gone, you were able to exit the building without notice.

11:43 PM.

You walked into Peter’s room, expecting him to be ready for the mission. He was asleep.

You grabbed his suit off the floor and slapped it against his bare back, he woke up with a scramble.

“Get up! We are going right now!”

Peter was groggy, visibly confused about the situation. But with sleepy eyes and tousled hair, he put his suit on. You waited in the same chair Bucky was sitting in this morning, the knife marks still etched as a chilling reminder to not get on his bad side. You were running your finger over the marks, feeling the indents when you heard Peter’s suit shrink into place.

You looked up at him, finding he was without his mask. He looked over the floor with half lidded eyes, a trail of dried drool still on his cheek. His hair was an absolute mess, maybe the mask wouldn’t be able to hold it down.

“There we go…” Peter bent down to reach under his bed. You watched as he stretched a hand, mindlessly reaching for his mask. But he grabbed it in no time, walking up to you while putting on the final piece of his suit.

“Bruce just left the lab, so we can go out the window now.” You spoke, already walking towards the glass pane separating you from the outside.

“The window? We can’t just take the elevator?” Peter questioned.

You unlatched the lock, pushing open the thin piece of glass to the outside. You leaned forward, staring at the concrete street 12 floors below you. It wasn’t the highest point, but it most definitely will do a lot more than tickle if you fell at this height.

“The cameras would catch us, my dad would be alerted. Since Bruce left to his room, we can go past the floor below us without him spotting us through the windows.”

You tugged at your sleeves, hoping they would fight off the bitter breeze that flowed through the window. It bit at your cheeks, causing a quick shiver to run along your body. You should have brought more layers.

“Okay, well hold tight then.”

You were leaning out the window when he spoke. You furrowed your brows, turning quickly once realization hit.

“Wait—what?”

Peter swooped you up with one arm, your body pressed tight against his while he climbed out the window

“WAIT, WAIT! I WASN’T READY—PETER!” You shouted before Peter took a dive out the window.

The air was sucked out of your lungs while you clung your arms around Peter’s neck. You were rocketing towards the ground at a rate that you didn’t think was possible, you felt your soul leave your body and trail back up to the room to watch its body splat on the sidewalk. Maybe your dad won’t find out.

“Hang on!” Peter shouted over the rush of air, using his currently free hand to push under your thigh. He kept tugging until you finally got the idea, wrapping your legs around him like a baby koala.

It was in that instant, when you found a tight grip on him did you hear his webshooters go off. It tugged the both of you roughly into the opposite direction, had you not held so tightly you might have gotten a nasty hit of whiplash. It also helped that Peter held you securely in his arm, preventing you from even getting a wiggle out.

You clung to dear life, not for a second opening your eyes as you felt your body move through the air. Your ears popped, letting a rush of sound to flood in before you both took another dip towards the ground.

You had stopped screaming by now, nearly numb from the velocity and the rush of blood. Your muscles were locked in place, wrapping around Peter in hopes that you could melt into him for safety. He didn’t seem to mind, at least he didn’t make it obvious. So he continued swinging between buildings, not exactly sure where he was going but he was enjoying the trip while he still could.

12:04 AM.

Peter eventually let you down in an alley. Well, he intended to let you down.

“Hey, we’re on solid ground.” You continued to hold on, face buried into his neck and eyes screwed shut. “…That means you can let go now.”

“No.” You uttered.

You held on, despite both of Peter’s arms hanging by his side. You stayed snugged against him, your bottom slowly sliding down with the lack of support. You kept trying to adjust your grip, even wiggle your hips to get a better lock around Peter’s waist. Nothing worked, and eventually your own strength failed you. You began to drop, but Peter managed to hold you up before then.

“C'mon, we dont have a lot of time. And I want to sleep.” Peter let go of you, making sure you could hold yourself up after that trip.

You let out a groan of frustration, staying close behind him before he would let you go do your ‘mission’.

“Okay, so I’m thinking I’d check out the donut place and then just walk down the street a bit. I’ll try and stall so maybe we can bait this guy out.” You poked your head out from behind Peter, checking your surroundings before stepping out yourself. You wobbled a bit, still trying to get used to solid ground. You hoped Peter hadn’t noticed. He did.

“Got it, ma'am! I’ll be on the rooftops!” Peter already began climbing up the side of a building when you called back to him.

“Call me 'ma'am’ again and I’ll shave your head in your sleep.”

“Roger that, _ma'am_.”

You threw your shoe at him, smacking him in the head before it fell back down to you. He continued crawling, giving his head a gentle rub. You hoped it hurt.

You slipped your shoe back on, now ready to walk the New York streets in an effort to catch whoever is behind the hack. Peter was to catch them, web them up and you would call your dad and Steve to take care of the rest. You thought it was a sound plan, something to prove to your father that you can be a valuable member of the team. Maybe even after this he would consider making you an avenger.

12:33 AM.

You walked down an empty street. Street lamps flickered above, giving a more lifeless feel to the empty sidewalk. Cars would drive by, the ones with tinted black windows made you weary. But they would drive away quickly, giving you a chance to breath again. This went on for some time while you walked. You took the long way to the donut shop, trying to extend your trip for as long as possible.

The old shop was a 24/7 vendor. You walked up to a window, someone sitting inside quickly got up to greet you.

“How may I help you?” The kind lady asked, her accent heavy with each word. You shifted on your feet, pouting your lips while staring up at the chalkboard menu behind her.

“ _May I have a half dozen box? Three glazed and the other three chocolate, please._ ” You responded to her in Spanish, hoping that it would be more comfortable in her own language. She gave you a wide smile as you spoke. The winkles in her warm features deepen as she watched you speak, even her eyes brightened with the sound of her mother tongue.

“ _Of course, honey. Would you like a drink too? It’s cold out, my love. I could warm up a hot chocolate for you._ ” She asked.

Your own eyes lit up at the thought, you quickly nodded your head before speaking, “ _Yes! I would love that, thank you so much!_ ”

She quickly packed a box with your donuts before sneaking away to grab a new mix of hot chocolate. You sat at a bench in front of the window and waited while she prepared your drink. The more you thought of it, the more you realized that she was right. It was practically freezing out, a hot chocolate would cure any shivers just by the mere thought.

And a box of donuts for you and Peter was a bonus, the late night snack should help you both stay alert for the rest of the mission.

The woman returned to the window, box and paper cup in hand. You gave her the money for both, but she tried waving off the extra amount for the hot chocolate.

You wouldn’t take no for an answer, so you gave her the money for the hot chocolate and a generous tip. You left it in a clear box in the front, giving her a toothy smile and thanking her sincerely. She thanked you for coming, telling you to go home and warm up.

But you simply smiled at her, assuring you would. Choosing to simply lie rather than admit you weren’t going home seemed simpler, it gave the kind woman a chance to soon forget you. You were another customer, a polite girl who made a quick stop for donuts and hot chocolate, nothing more.

You continued walking down the street, turning around random corners in hopes of luring someone out. You ate away at the donuts while taking tentative sips at the warm beverage, you didn’t want to burn your tongue.

But soon, you became full, your drink felt cold. You were wandering aimlessly for some time, the box in your hand becoming an annoyance. So you sat down at a bus stop bench, pulling out your StarkPhone and quickly finding Peter’s contact.

**DIALING: LITTLE SHIT**

…

…

The phone rang just twice before Peter picked up.

“What’s up?” He answered. You shifted your phone against your cheek and settled the box down at your side.

“I got donuts for you. I ate all the glazed though, not gonna lie.” You replied, quickly popping the box open to inspect the chocolate donuts left over. You looked above you, trying to find the masked hero.

“Well, at least you saved me some.” Peter acknowledged. You found him climbing down a wall across the street. He kept his distance, not trying to associate himself with you for the moment. You both agreed that if he was seen with you now, that might scare off the culprit.

You got up from the bench, throwing your cold cup into a trash bin and leaving the box on the bench. “Alright, I’m gonna make another trip around the block. If nothing happens then I guess we should call it a night.” You sighed, disappointed that nothing has happened so far. It was cold, you were tired, and these assholes still haven’t showed up. What a bunch of jerks.

“Sure thing, I’ll still be watching your back.” Peter assured.

“Thanks, Pete.” You replied sincerely. He hummed in response, accepting your gratitude without any tease or jokes. You appreciated it.

Soon you both hung up, you kept walking forward trying to make it back around to where you originally started. It was later into the night, more people actually came out. Not exactly the type of people you’d wanna hang out with, but they were people nonetheless.

At least you weren’t alone out here anymore. But then again, that’s not always a good thing.


	7. Chapter 7

1:12 AM.

You wandered for a bit, unsure where to walk next. But you continued anyways, taking the steps toward a path unknown. At this point, you hoped no one would show up. You were tired beyond belief, wishing you had asked the kind lady for a coffee instead. You knew you weren’t exactly at your best, but you pushed on anyways. Peter was probably worn out too, but every once in a while you could catch a glimpse of red and blue on the rooftops. He was a reminder that you were safe to continue, no matter how tired.

You walked into a more dimly lit area. People were scattered around, some homeless, you noticed. Others seem to be up to different vices, whatever New York did at night seemed to happen right here on this street. You avoided eye contact, not trying to get into any more trouble than you signed up for.

But there was a sudden grab on your jeans, a gentle tug stopping you from continuing on. You turned, ready to face whatever threat grabbed you.

You weren’t expecting to see an elderly man sitting on the floor, eyes clouded over with scars webbing out from the lids. His clothes were worn, his skin dirty where ever it showed. Your heart hurt for him.

“Excuse me, do you have any change?” He let go of your jeans by now but you stayed planted firmly.

You dug into your pockets, fishing out a twenty before placing it in his hands. He held onto your hand for a moment, pulling you closer with a beard covered smile.

“Thank you.” He brought an aged hand to your face. You held still, despite the uncertainty in how sanitary his hands really were. He felt at your features, you closed your eyes as he brought finger tips to your eyelids. The man did this for a moment longer, taking in each dip and curve of your face before finally letting go. “You are very beautiful, miss.”

You smiled at him. Despite his situation, he still had it in his heart to give you a compliment. The kind words brought heat to your cheeks before you answered, “Thank you, sir. The bill in your hands is a Twenty,” You leaned in, close enough for only him to hear. You ignored the smell of the street on him as you whispered, “come by the Avenger’s Tower sometime, sir. We could find you a place to stay.” You whispered more instructions to him, telling him to ask for your name should he choose to come by. He smiled widely as you pulled away.

“You—oh my goodness!” He come to the realization that you were Tony’s daughter. You couldn’t help but smile at him even wider as he thanked you profusely. You said your goodbyes, leaving him a smiling mess as you walked away.

How you wished to have stayed just a little longer with him, maybe that would have prevented the forthcoming events.

It was this during this rush of happiness, this euphoria of a good deed caused you to lower your defenses. You had no idea it was him, not even a slight hint until he had grabbed you by the arm and ushered you towards a black car.

You pulled, punched, even screamed, but nothing was of use to deter the tattooed figure. The people around you began to scatter, seeking to only save themselves as you were being thrown into a car.

But as you hit the seat, the familiar blur of red and blue crossed your vision.

He couldn’t close the door, not when Peter webbed the man to the nearest wall. So you climbed out, a rush of adrenaline pumping into your veins and making your muscles fling you out of the vehicle without another moment wasted. Peter quickly got a hold of you, shoving you behind while other goons surrounded him.

“Call your dad, NOW!” Peter commanded before swiftly dodging a punch. You were thrown back by Peter, away from the scuffle to call for help. You scrambled to unlock your phone and with a quick scan of your features, it opened.

You pulled up your father’s contact, but before you could hit dial a hand swiped at your phone, successfully throwing it out of your hands. You watched it bounce, reaching out hopelessly as it landed far from you. The man who knocked it out then quickly lifted his fist again, hitting you straight across the jaw within moments.

You stumbled back, a hand immediately reached up to touch the tender area. Your mind was hazy for a second, but in just another did you realize the situation you were in. The man stepped closer again, grabbing for a fist full of hair and dragging you along with him.

“Let go! Asshole!” You screamed, digging your nails into his wrist and drawing blood. He barely even flinched, continuing to drag you towards the car again. “Peter!”

You screamed out, hoping that he could help you. All you could see was the ground you walked on, the man continued to shove your head downwards as he pulled.

You heard Peter yelling your name, more grunts and web fluid could be heard, so you had hoped for the best. And luckily, the next moment your hair was free.

You tumbled to the ground on all fours. Carefully, you reached up a hand to rub away the soreness on your scalp. You looked up to find the guy who hit you hanging from a streetlamp. His whole torso was wrapped in web, even his mouth was sealed shut. He kicked his legs in the air, desperately trying to wiggle himself out of the webs.

Looking around, most of the men were either unconscious or webbed to something, unable to move any further. Peter held out his hand to you, desperately pulling you up so you both could get out of there.

“Oh my God, I’m so grounded.” You spoke aloud. Peter didn’t laugh.

“You’re telling me!” Peter replied. “Karen! Call Stark–” The conversation between you both was cut short, a quick blast of the brick next to you caused both of you to stumble to the ground. Turning around, the tattooed man was free from his webbing, holding a huge gun at you and Peter.

“Get in the car.” He commanded. A purple glow emerged from the weapon, indicating it was charging up.

You’ve seen this before, so has Peter. It was one of the many weapons Adrian Toomes sold under the table. You shouldn’t be surprised, these weapons were being shipped everywhere for years. Of course there would be some still out there even after his arrest.

You got up, inching in front of Peter in hopes that you were meant to be taken alive. They wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble of wrestling you into the car if that wasn’t the case.

You felt Peter try and tug you back, but you stood firm. You used your own body as a sort of shield for him, you know they were already willing to kill him, so you put your money on yourself in hopes that they can’t kill you.

“Get in!” The man screamed, making you jump from the fright.

“Okay, okay. Calm down.” You told him, taking a step forward in hopes that he would lower the gun. He didn’t.

Peter whispered your name, calling out to you to stop. But you kept taking steps, inching towards the car next to the man. The man watched with bloodshot eyes, itching for any reason to pull the trigger.

You pushed Peter back, reaching the car door in just a few steps. You were ready to climb in, already stepped one foot inside when he mumbled something under his breath.

“Starks, what a pain in the ass this family.”

You whipped your head back, refusing to step all the way in the car.

You dared to say something, mouth forming against the first syllable when a blast resonated.

The man flew backwards, his weapon lost from his grip and crashing against the concrete. You looked away, shielding your eyes from the bright flash.

“Steve, grab the kids.”

The familiar timbre of your fathers voice rung out. You looked up to find red and gold standing in front of you, your father’s suit stood tall with an arm extended towards the tattooed man. He seemed unconscious, laying still on the floor with the broken pieces of his weapon aside.

“Dad! That’s the guy! We got them!” You called out, happy to see your father and even happier that you were able to successfully lure the men out.

“You better not say another _Goddamn_ word, you hear me?” He had whipped his head around at you, staring through two shining slits right through you. You stepped back, shocked at his tone. He has never spoken to you like this, you never heard this type of anger coming from him. Even when your Grandpa Obadiah betrayed him, he never spoke with such fury.

“C'mon, we’re going home.” Steve put a hand on your shoulder, gently pulling you away from your father. You continued looking back over your shoulder, watching as your father stood in the middle of Peter’s work. You were confused, not knowing why your dad was so mad at you.

Steve got you and Peter in the car. He drove you both home without saying another word, his own mind racing with all the possibilities of tonight. Steve was visibly tired, his eyes drooping as he pulled into the garage. Worry lines were deep against his skin, and they only got worse when he took a look back at you and Peter.

Steve was disappointed.

You looked next to you at Peter, his own face contorted in shame and guilt. But you didn’t share his feelings, no, you were confused. You and Peter both managed to catch the people who sent the message, you both put a stop to the threats against your family. And yet your father was angry and Steve was disappointed. You were missing something here. You were unable to translate the tension around you.

Once you all got out of the car, Steve took you both to one of the many common areas in the Tower. May was already waiting, she sat in what you assumed to be her pajamas with a mug of warm tea in her hands. Her eyes were puffy, a reddish tint surrounding her eyes.

She took one look at both of you and practically tossed the mug on the coffee table. She got up, rushing towards you and wrapping her arms around both of you. Peter assured her he was fine, you said nothing as you felt her sobs against Peter’s suit. She rubbed her fingers into your hair, probably doing the same to Peter as she cried.

“You are never leaving the house again, you are grounded until you have dentures.” She mumbled into Peter’s hair, still choking out sobs as she was shaking. You held tightly against her, only hoping that she would calm soon.

“You wanna explain why you both were out in the middle of the night fighting the people who threatened our lives?”

You heard your father once more, so you pulled away from May. She let you go, choosing to grab Peter’s cheeks with both her hands. She stared at him for a moment before pulling him into another tight hug. Peter wrapped his own arms around her, turning his head so he could look at you. It was pity.

“I thought you told me not to say another word.” You responded to your father, making him step out of the suit with a face red hot with anger.

“Oh don’t you pull that shit with me, kid. Why the _hell_ were you out there? Huh? You tryna prove a point?” Tony stepped closer as he continued raising his voice. You stood your ground, biting into your cheek as he berated you. “What, you thought after this little stunt you’d be an Avenger? Yeah?”

“That’s… I didn't—that wasn’t the point of what we did.” You answered, shy of your own words as they came out.

“Oh, then what was the point? To get both you and Peter killed?” Tony replied, face contorted in anger as he paced in front of you. “You know, Peter learned from that, stopped doing things on his own but you came up with this _wonderful_ idea to go fight these–” He refrained himself, biting his tongue from using more foul language. “You could have been killed. If Peter didn’t go along with you then you would have been in that car right now going God knows where.”

Your lip was quivering at this point, a burning wetness pooled in your eyes. Your father ignored this, continuing to scold your actions without a care for how you reacted.

“I just… I just wanted to help, Dad.” You whispered, tears finally spilling and trailing down your cheeks. You still hadn’t moved, refusing to step away from your father’s rage.

“You could have died. Peter could have died. There is so much more here that you don’t understand–”

“Then tell me!”

You interrupted, screaming your response in your father’s face.

“You don’t give me a chance to understand! To learn! You have me locked up in here, and for _what?_ To sit back and watch while you go save the world, not knowing if you’d ever come back?” Your tears were streaming down your face, hiccups interrupted every word as you screamed back. Your father took it all, listening to every word with undivided attention. “You let Peter out there, fighting alongside everyone and I just want to help you, Dad! You give him all of these chances and you trust him more than me and—and–” You fell to your knees, holding onto your stomach while the sobs took over. “I thought I was your daughter! I thought that you would trust me, but you always put Peter first and I just want to prove to you that I can do something…”

You kept sobbing, letting all the pent up anger just pour out. Your eyes were screwed shut, doing nothing to hold back the onslaught of tears. Your choked sobs were the only things you could hear in the silence of the Tower, not even the hum of machinery or F.R.I.D.A.Y’s bright attitude. You kept crying into yourself, not even caring that Steve, May, and Peter could be watching.

You felt a pair of hands cup your face, tugging you to look back up.

Your father was knelt down in front of you, his own stream of tears on his cheeks. He wiped away at yours with his thumbs, noting the swelling redness on one side. His face contorted into worry when he touched the injury, you ignored the sting as he inspected the area. He then pulled you towards him, letting his own sobs out as you wrapped your arms around him. You held onto him tightly, sobbing into his shirt while he rubbed circles into your back. He pressed kisses into your hair, whispering gentle words to try and calm you. Your father kept telling you that he loved you, that he didn’t need you to prove anything.

Your sobs eventually calmed to gentle hiccups. But your father held you tight in his lap still, not wanting to let you go anytime soon.

May eventually led Peter to his room, talking with him in private before going to her own quarters.

You weren’t sure how long your father held you, he didn’t even know either. But your gentle snores told him that you should be back in your own room and in your bed, especially after the day you had.

“Tony, I’ll get her in her room.” Steve brought your fathers attention back up. He was a silent bystander during the entirety of the scene. He didn’t want to listen at you both scream at each other, but he felt the need to be there in case things got out of hand.

“No, no. I got it.” Tony whispered back before getting up with you in his arms. You stirred back awake, but you simply tucked your tear stained face back against your fathers shoulder. You let him carry you, just like when you were little. It was such a welcoming feeling, being back in his arms. You wrapped your arms around his neck, still sniffling as he took you to your room. You looked back to find Steve still trailing behind. He gave you a smile, his tired eyes now were a warm blue.

“Alright, Sweetheart. You’re gonna break your old man’s back one day.” Your father put you back in bed, moving to your feet to remove your shoes.

“Not if you have the suit on.” You shot back.

The Stark attitude has returned to both of you, gently warming the air around you.

Your father pulled your shoes off, not even bothering to reprimand you for wearing dirty clothes to bed. He knew you were tired, and he himself was too tired to argue more.

“Goodnight, Honey. Stay in bed this time, please.” Your father warned as he placed a kiss on your forehead. You scrunched your nose at him before replying.

“Maybe add locks to the doors next time.”

“Yea right, you didn’t even use the door, kid.”

You pulled the sheets over yourself, laughing as your father walked away from you. He was smiling back at you, the weight of your argument already gone from his shoulders. Your dad tried avoiding the mistakes of his own father, choosing to be more forgiving when he can. He wanted to raise you with love, not methodical fear. You were his chance to fix his past, ease the demons in his head and to prove to his long gone father that being a parent had a lot more to do with love than rules.

Steve was waiting by the door. It was when your father left did he step in, ruffling your hair and smacking a loud kiss onto your cheek. You tried pushing him away, angling your face to prevent the onslaught of wet kisses onto your face, but there was nothing you could do against the super soldier.

“Pull that shit again and not even my shield can protect you.” Steve warned into your face. You squealed against him, promising to never do it again. In the near future.

“What ever happened to watching your language?!” You called out as he got up. He winked at you, a smile on his lips creating a sense of mischief. He knew that if you told anyone what he said, no one would believe you. That fact alone would keep you quiet.

Steve gave you one last “goodnight” before finally leaving you to sleep. He closed the door behind him, letting you curl up under your sheets fully dressed. You didn’t care, you were tired.

You fell asleep with a contended sigh, allowing your heavy lids to finally close shut. You let the exhaustion take over, lull you to sleep with out another moment wasted.

2:17 AM.

Peter was tossing in his bed, sleep no longer interested in him. No matter how many times he shuffled, readjusted, and turned, there was no comfortable position that allowed Peter to fall back to sleep. He kept thinking about the events from earlier, the way he fought so hard to protect you, and yet they still managed to lay a hand on you. The way you hit the ground, how you screamed his name in desperation. Out of all the years he’s known you by now, he never thought he would hear the straight horror in your voice. It made him uncomfortable, anxious, even. The cracks in your voice and the choked sobs muffled from a swollen cheek. Peter couldn’t get the thoughts out of his head.

So he got up from his bed. He thought that maybe by checking in on you, he can trick his mind into letting him sleep. He put on a loose shirt, ignoring his shoes by his door. With the soft patter of his bare feet on the floor, he quickly stepped through the few cold steps it took to get to your room. He didn’t knock, thinking that maybe you were already asleep.

So with curiosity, he poked his head through the door first, unable to see your form on the messy bed. It was too dark, he assumed.

So he stepped inside.

As he got closer, his eyes squinted for assistance. But he couldn’t see you. His heart began to race again, the anxiety returning with no remorse.

He called your name out, hoping that by some struck of luck you would pop out from under the bed or out of your closet, but there was nothing. Not even warmth to the indent left on your mattress.

You were gone. The realization hit Peter worse than any other punch he’s ever taken. It came from his gut, pooling up to tighten his chest and then restrict his throat. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, all of the possibilities rushing into his head at once, making him sick.

Peter collapse to the floor, using all what was left in his lungs to call out to F.R.I.D.A.Y.

“Peter? Peter, is everything alright?” She called out to the boy. He couldn’t understand why she was asking him, she should be able to sense something was wrong with you. “Pe—wrong? I-I-I—detecting system error…”

F.R.I.D.A.Y began to go haywire, spouting garbled words and static pauses. It was happening again, they got to F.R.I.D.A.Y.

Peter got up, a dim light shone from your sheets. Without another moment lost, he reached your bed.

Your phone lay on your pillow, almost methodically left in place to be found.

2:27 AM.

**NEW MESSAGE: UNKNOWN**

_WE TOLD YOU NOT TO INTERFERE, STARK._

Peter dropped the phone, the memories of the man hitting you came back. Your phone was on the floor, did you ever pick it back up? Did Steve grab your phone?

“Oh God…” Peter mumbled to himself, his face hot with worry and anger. They had your phone, they could get into the Tower if they had your phone.

They were inside. Just next door to Peters room. How did he not know? How did he miss the intruders when they were just mere feet away?

Peter did notice, he realized. The anxiety, the worry, it wasn’t sleeplessness.

It was his spider senses going haywire, and he ignored it.


End file.
